


So Here's the Deal

by Annehiggins



Series: Schmoopverse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam broods, Dean has a conversation with God, and Sam gets to show off his lawyerish skills. Set post-season 5. This is a 3-part story that centers on Dean getting pregnant, but there's really no mpreg to it beyond the fact that he a few weeks pregnant by the final story. Posted to Live Journal July 24, 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Here's the Deal

  
**So Here's the Deal**  
By Anne Higgins

**Now**

Tired of waiting for his brother to show up with breakfast, Sam Winchester made himself a cup of coffee with the sad little coffee maker stuck in the corner of their hotel room. He grimaced at the taste, but at least it was something to help clear out the cobwebs from a restless night's sleep.

He sighed and walked over to the small table where he'd set up his laptop. Been a few months since he'd escaped from Hell, and he hadn't quite gotten the hang of sleeping more than a few hours a night. Not really having nightmares – compared to Dean's experiences Sam's time in Hell had been more like a cheesy horror flick – but he had weird dreams that never let his mind really settle down. Every night it got a little easier. Another couple of weeks and he'd be sleeping through until morning. Dean kept making comments about it being like having a gigantic baby, but Sam couldn't help wondering if his relatively easy stint with Lucifer wasn't yet another thing for Dean to resent about him.

Another sip of horrible coffee and Sam forced himself to let go of his train of thought. Brooding over the wrongs he'd done or caused others to do to his brother only served to infuriate Dean. Bad enough he'd forced Dean into promising to live the normal sort of life that had always been Sam's dream more than his, but then Sam had to go and show up on his new doorstep to drag him back into hunting. Not that Dean wasn't thriving. After his initial hesitation and with the weight of the Apocalypse off his shoulders, Dean had rediscovered his love of helping people and the thrill of hunting down every evil 'son of a bitch' that crossed their path. But Sam could tell his older brother was lonely. No doubt missing his almost family even though Sam had never gotten the impression Dean had loved Lisa. In fact it had surprised him to find himself standing on the street corner in front of the woman's house. He'd expected Dean to go back to Cassie Robinson, who'd always seemed to be the love of Dean's life. Instead he'd headed for the home of a former one-night stand, who happened to have a kid a lot like Dean. Sam assumed the kid, Ben, had a lot more to do with Dean's refuge than the mother. In any case, Dean was missing them. Not enough to stay with them and leave Sam on his own, but he missed them.

Sam sighed, not knowing how to make things better for Dean or apparently how to stop brooding about everything. Ah, well, time for a little Internet intervention. They'd just finished a hunt – vengeful spirit haunting a public park – so he needed to track down their next job, but it could wait until after he checked his email.

Three FYIs from Bobby, another half-dozen from the few hunters they were still on quasi-friendly terms with, and. … Sam smiled, one from Sarah Blake. They'd met five years ago, hit it off during that haunted painting case, then stayed in touch after he and Dean had left town. Never had gone beyond more than a semi-weekly, just-friends email, but Sam had always known it could be more. Sarah had even wanted more despite knowing the truth about the sort of life he lived, but first Sam hadn't been ready to let go of his grief over Jessica, then he'd gotten caught up in the long road to sharing his body with the Devil himself and a cage in Hell. But he was free now of both his dark destiny and the demon-blood addiction that had helped fuel it. Sarah seemed free as well after having recently ended a relationship normal people would call brief, but was practically a lifetime for a Winchester.

He wanted to look for a hunt that would take them back to Sarah's area, use the opportunity to meet up with her again and see what happened. But it didn't seem right when Dean was still hurting from his own lost opportunity. Which brought him right back to brooding.

Not good. He abandoned his email and opened his browser, hoping putting his mental energies into looking for a new hunt would prove a more effective strategy. The screen began to change, then a hand closed on his shoulder, jerking him to his feet a second before a fist smashed into his nose.

Sam staggered at the force of the blow, but caught himself quickly and dropped into a defensive stance only to find himself facing – "Dean!"

For a split-second he thought Dean must have been possessed despite the tattoo, but no, the glare on his face was pure 'pissed off older brother' and no demon could pull that off. "Dude, what the fuck?" he demanded, back-pedaling out of Dean's reach and cupping his hand over his bleeding nose.

"This is all your fault!" Dean snapped and swung again.

It lacked the smoothness of one of Dean's usual punches, and Sam evaded it with relative ease. Even weirder, it threw Dean off balance. "Damnit, Dean, what's wrong?" he demanded, ducking another attempted blow. Sam had never won a fight with Dean without the help of a demon-blood fix, but right now he could have taken him down fairly easily. The thought alarmed Sam more than the attack. "Dean!"

"Payback!" his brother snapped, swung, then staggered again.

Sam half-grabbed, half-shoved him so Dean fell onto the nearest bed. "For what?" he demanded caught between terror and elation that Dean was finally ready to hash things out between them.

"My pelvis!"

Sam blinked. What? "What?"

A full-blown 'drop dead where you stand' glare fixed on him. "My freaking pelvis got whammied!"

Well, that would explain the staggering. His sense of balance would be off until he got used to the change, but nothing else made sense. "Why would -? Who the hell-?"

"Chuck!" Dean spat. "And –" he bit off the next word as if it were too terrible to mention.

Chuck? Sam was beginning to think he'd fallen down the rabbit hole. Or into some weirdassed episode of _Ghostfacers._ "Chuck? How could Chuck whammy anything?"

Dean glared for at least another full minute, then he finally started talking.

**Then**

All Dean had wanted was a cup of decent coffee. Experience had taught him many years ago not to look for it from the complimentary coffee maker stuck in any room he and Sam hung out it. Which worked out fine since his stomach had wanted something greasy and sure to make Sammy bitch about nutrition along with his morning caffeine download.

"Sam, I'm gonna grab us some breakfast," he'd called toward the bathroom, opened the door of their room and …. Did not find himself in the parking lot.

"Son of a bitch!" he snapped, spinning around to find the room he'd just left had done the same transformation into an opulent business office. Silk curtains, leather and dark wood everywhere – all of which smelled freaking expensive. None of it said 'Cas' to him, but he'd been mojoed around often enough to recognize angelshit when dropped into it. None of which boded well for either Dean or the angel he hadn't seen since the drive to Lisa's house.

Zeroing in on the high-backed leather chair oh, so pointedly turned away from him, he snarked, "So which of you douchebags wanted my ass this time?"

The chair turned revealing … pretty much the last person he'd ever thought to see. "Chuck?"

"Hey, Dean, long time no see," Chuck Shurley said with a … was that a smirk? Hell, yes, the bitch was smirking.

"You're a ... a …" Dean struggled to find a word to convey his utter disgust and seriously couldn't come up with a better one than a "freaking angel?"

Chuck shook his head. "Funny thing happened when I finished your last chapter."

Dean scowled. He'd thought Sam had said he'd convinced Chuck to stop writing that privacy-raping crap.

"I got my memory back."

Yeah, yeah, he'd done this 'amnesiac angel recovers mojo' dance with Anna, and that had gone sooo well. "So an angel."

And who would have thought 'yes, I'm an angel' would turn out to be the better answer? "No, I'm Castiel's father."

Dean stared. He blinked. Then he stared some more. All while his brain tried to do the math. Castiel's father was … Which made Chuck … So Chuck equaled. … Nah, couldn't be. Could it? God was an alcoholic hack writer? Seriously? Then again that would sort of explain the crapfest the world had turned into. "So you're God."

Chuck nodded looking annoyingly pleased with Himself. Damn, Dean wanted to smack Him. Or beat Him to death. Dean wasn't picky. But he'd gotten really tired of the 'break his fist on the angel jaw' thing, and he was betting trying to punch out God's lights would prove equally annoying. "God. As in the great all-knowing son of a bitch that left us with our asses hanging out to dry."

The smile faded into a frown. "You were given free will –"

"Oh, bite me," he snapped. "Making us clean up the mess Your stupid angels made isn't free will. It's abuse of power!"

Chuck got that annoyed look people always wore when Dean had a point, and he guessed that was as much of an apology as he was going to get, since Chuck made a dismissive wave – and yeah, Dean could admit the thought he was about to find himself in the middle of Antarctica did occur to him – then said, "That story is over. Time to start the sequel."

Oh, Dean did _not_ like the sound of that. "What. Sequel."

God apparently had enough of the old Chuck in Him to look momentarily worried at Dean's tone, but He quickly got over it. "I'm thinking of a love story."

Dean blinked. A mistake because during the brief darkness a second plush leather chair had appeared beside the first. This one holding Becky Rosen. She gave him a wave, then said, "Actually it was my idea."

Oh, fuck. The woman was batshit crazy and Dean knew all too well what gutter her mind liked to live in. "No!" He snapped. "No fucking way are Sam and I going there!"

She snorted. "Oh, please. _I_ never would have gone there if the books had started with the fourth year. I mean, you and Sam," she gave a heaving sigh, then fanned herself, "well, it's a great visual, but the two of you work better with the kinky stuff. We're talking romantic comedy here."

Dean shot Chuck a look. "You're really going to take advice from a crazed fangirl?"

As if to emphasize his point, Becky gave him a pleased smile. "That I am, but I'm also His other half."

Dean got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, then almost lost the contents of it, when 'the Odd Couple: The Twilight Zone edition' made like that weird Hindu statue with the split personality and became one Half-Chuck/Half-Becky being.

"You really didn't think I had a single gender, did you?" Checky asked in a weird mixed voice.

Dean dropped his head into his hands, muttering, "Kill me now." Because the universe run by a crappy writer with a booze problem he could cope with, but add in a slash fan with a fondness for incest and Dean really, really wanted off this ride.

"Now, Dean, don't be that way." Sounded like solo-Becky, so he risked looking back up, and yeah, there were two of them again. And how sad was it that this was the good news?

"Never do that again." He whispered in a tone a lot like a prayer. Or as close to one as he intended to ever get. Because the phrase, 'Our Checky who art in heaven' did _not_ work for him.

"So back to Our story," Becky said. "I see it as a classic boy meets boy plot." She frowned and looked at Chuck. "Are you sure we can't turn Sam into a homosexual? You know I prefer to play with Sam." And did it make Dean a bad brother to have a fleeting thought of encouraging that idea?

Chuck shook His head. "Free will."

Becky pouted. "Damn."

Could God say damn? And God pouted? This … was not good.

"Aw well, it _would_ be a crime to hide those abs of his away for even a few months." She sighed blissfully again, obviously all a twitter about Sammy's six-pack.

Dean felt another surge of nausea.

"But, well, pregnancy will look great on you, Dean."

Wait. "What?"

"Like I said, classic plot – boy meets boy; boy has boy's baby." She gave him that disappointed look she always wore when he failed to live up to her slash-fantasy version of him. "Try to keep up."

"But … I'm a guy." Were those Two so deep in Neverland that they'd forgotten they'd designed things to work a certain way?

"Yes, you are," came the cheerful answer.

Chuck added, "Becky always has loved a good mpreg."

"Mpreg?"

"Male pregnancy," She answered with put upon 'patience.'

Okay, he was so out of here. Dean made for the door and was kind of surprised They let him reach it. He was far from shocked to find a duplicate of the room he was trying to flee on the other side. Fuck. And, no, he needed a different word. Shit. Shit would do.

"Got that out of your system?" Yeah, Chuck the Only Almighty definitely came under the heading of the good old days. Were they really only a few minutes ago?

He leaned back against the treacherous door because, even if it had betrayed him, it was still the furthest he could get from the insane Deity-Duo. "I am _not_ going to let some guy knock me up!" he snapped with the same determination he'd declared he'd never say yes to being Michael's vessel and tried not to think about what a clusterfuck that had led to.

She gave him an 'aren't you cute' look. "Of course you are, sweetie. We're even almost done with the 'meet the Parents' scene.'"

"I don't give a-" Wait. Parents? Not some random guy, then, but an angel? His heart began to pound. Because he may not be down with the Mommy-to-be shit, but there was one angel he desperately wanted to see again. "Cas?"

Chuck nodded. "He'd hardly forgive Us if We let anyone else touch you." He sighed. "And to be honest, there is an obvious design flaw in the Angels. So few of them rose above perceived duty to do what was right. We need new blood in the mix and what better match than two members of Team Free Will?"

He could see the reasoning, but, "You're freaking God. Wave Your hand or whatever You do and make new angels!"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," He said with a shake of His head. "Even I follow certain rules, and one of the biggest is one creation event per species."

Dean glared because he'd be willing to bet the Impa- … Sam that Checky had made the rules He was so anxious to not break.

"On the other hand," Becky announced, "individual renovations are simple enough."

"Renovations?"

Chuck said, "I actually prefer the term upgrade."

"I am not freaking _Windows!"_ he shouted back.

"Of course not. We'd never think of releasing you full of glitches."

Okay, this analogy was officially giving Dean a headache. "I-"

"Or," Becky cut in, "are you going to stand there and tell Us you aren't crazy in love with Our adorable Castiel?" She had a dangerous gleam in Her eye that made the phrase 'wrath of God' pop into Dean's mind.

He swallowed and wished he could take another step backwards but the wood refused to cooperate. Besides what was the point of denying what Mr. and Mrs. All-Knowing already … knew. "No," he admitted, "but-"

"Excellent!" Becky crowed and suddenly She was right in front of him. But instead of making with the pointy-fingers-of-doom, Her hands settled on his hips. He was sure there was some crack about Her being into Sam not him so what was with the groping, but a tingling started zinging through his abdomen. "Let's get this show on the road, shall We?"

"What … are you … doing?" He felt so weird, not to mention She'd done something to keep him from moving a single muscle to evade Her touch.

"Well, besides adding the necessary parts, I need to make a few structural modifications. Like to your pelvis."

"My pelvis?"

"It's too thick and solid. Doesn’t have the give a woman's does. Not good for growing and delivering little ones. Easiest solution would be to swap yours out with a female model, but, well, it might not be in Sam's league, but it would still be a crime to alter an ass as fine of yours."

Oh, good. God liked his ass. Dean would really like to wake up now.

"So I'm altering its structure to do the same thing yet still fit the old frame. I need to make it strong enough to handle the strain of a child and your muscle mass. Think of it as swapping out steel for iron – much lighter, but stronger. You'll be off-balance until you get used to it."

He desperately wanted to at least twitch his hips in token protest, but no dice. Call him Dean Winchester Baby Machine, and wait a minute. "How is the baby coming out?"

She smirked and patted his ass.

"No!" he snapped. "I am _not_ pooping out my kid like some freaking cheeseburger!"

"He has a point," Chuck said, even while looking kind of … pleased. Kind of a 'revenge is sweet' vibe, and Dean thought maybe he shouldn't have let Sam threaten the Guy after that Supernatural convention fiasco.

Becky pouted. "I don't want to give him a vagina. I _like_ the way two guys fuck."

Did God get to say fuck? Dean wondered when someone had slipped the Kool-Aid into his drink, because this all had to be some sort of hallucination. Didn't it?

Chuck thought a moment, then snapped His fingers. "Got it! Alter the genetic coding so a birth canal forms two weeks or so before birth. Leaves the esthetics You like and will give him fair warning."

"Nice," Becky agreed throwing Him an adoring look. So God was a narcissist as well as nuts. At least He made talking to Himself more interesting. "There!" She gave his hips one last grope. "All done. Say hello to Sammy for me."

Then he was back in the hotel room and _finally_ there was someone he could punch.

**Now**

"Wait. How is all of this my fault?" Sam demanded. Because, pathetic as it might be, Dean's irrational desire to blame him was the sanest thing about this whole mess.

Dean glared at him. "You threatened Chuck last!"

"Only because you didn't get the chance!"

"And if you'd just put out for Becky, she might have gotten this whole slash crap out of her head and left me in peace!"

God was a slash writer. Sam's brain hurt. "She wanted me to put out with _you_ while she watched!" And ewww. On so many levels.

Dean flopped back flat on the bed in clear disgust. "Guess I'm lucky She didn't insist on my having your ass-babies."

Sam shuddered, then, "I thought you said She was giving you a –"

"Figure of speech, Sam!" He glared at the ceiling for several minutes while Sam tried to process all of this, but it was a lot like trying to figure out some sort of weird, drug-induced dream.

"Guess you should take off," Dean finally broke the silence.

"What? Why?"

"Cas is gonna show up any minute to knock me up. Figure you don't wanna watch the angel edition of 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am.'"

Yeah, pass on that. "Right, I'll just. …" he muttered, heading for the door, but as his hand fell on the doorknob, he looked back at his brother lying there like the perfect picture of despair. "Dean-"

"Sam, just go. There's nothing you can do." Dean made a soft sort-of laugh, but not really sound. "Hey, maybe he'll say goodbye this time."

It sunk in that Dean was steeling himself for a one-night stand, and, "Okay, no."

Dean laughed. "Hate to tell you this, Sammy, but the no-thing doesn't carry much weight in this freaking … sequel."

"You think Cas would rape you?"

"What?" Dean sat up abruptly, giving him an 'offended on his angel's behalf' look. "Of course not, but I'm … not gonna say no."

Right. Because Dean always figured he had to settle for what he could get versus what he really wanted. And he wanted Cas. "Were you ever going to tell me you were bi?"

Dean shook his head. "You mad?"

"No, not mad, but I'm disappointed you thought I couldn't handle it."

"It wasn't that. I was pretty sure you could, but," he sighed. "You wouldn't have approved of how I was handling it."

Sam could imagine. Since he'd never had a clue, Dean must have scratched that itch in back alleys and men's rooms. Given Sam's vocal opinions of his brother's habit of whisking women off to places that at least had beds, it wasn't a stretch to see why Dean had discovered discretion. And damnit, if he knew his brother at all, Dean was sitting there thinking this was all payback for every one-hour stand he'd ever had. "Candlelight."

Dean gave him an odd look. "Candlelight?"

"It's what you deserve. Candlelight dinners and walks on the beach."

A smile twitched on Dean's face. "I think that's what Becky wants. Romantic comedy and all that." His head dropped and he stared at the carpet between his boots. "But They'll want Cas to stay in Heaven and … I just can't go there."

Sam managed not to flinch because he knew he had a lot to do with Dean viewing Heaven as desirable as Hell. Well, it was time for Sam to start making up for past hurts. "Guess we need to negotiate, then."

"Negotiate?"

Sam walked back over to the bed, moving close enough to loom over Dean. "Starting with no brother of mine is going to be an unwed mother."

Dean looked up at him. "What're you gonna do, Sammy? Lock me in an angel-proof chastity belt?"

Sam bent down so they were almost nose-to-nose. "If. I. Must." On impulse he gave Dean a quick kiss on the forehead, then stepped back before Dean could swat at him.

Looking up at the ceiling, Sam snapped, "Chuck, Becky, I want a word with you. Now!"

**Still Now**

Dean yelped as the bed beneath him vanished and he tumbled backwards to hit the marble floor. Ouch, and how come God couldn't get wall-to-wall carpeting?

"Dean!" Sam shouted, then instantly had his Gigantor hands all over Dean, helping him stand like they were in the middle of one of those lame 'I've fallen and can't get up' commercials.

Becky made a weird sound like-

"It's called squeeing," Chuck said.

Squeeing? What kind of lameass word was that?

"Fangirl speak."

"That explains it, and, dude, get your hands off me," he barked shoving Sam back at the same time Becky … squeed, "Oh, pick him up and carry him for Me."

In one of those perfectly-in-sync brothers moments, he and Sam both cast 'what planet are You from' looks at Her. "Christ, I need a drink," he muttered, stalking off to a chair as far away from the Crazy Lady as he could get.

"He's busy," Chuck told him, but handed him a glass of whiskey. Trust Chuck to have the booze close to hand, but what was it with Heaven's inhabitants and personal space? He glared at Chuck until He backed up a few steps, then Dean drained the glass. He couldn't quite help the appreciative murmur at the rich taste.

"Only the good stuff up here," Chuck said pouring another two-fingers into the crystal glass. "And you need to drink up while you can."

Dean glared at Him until He retreated back to His desk, then Dean shifted his attention to Sam and Becky in time to hear, "… and the baby stays with Dean until…"

Oh, crap. He hadn't even thought about maybe not being able to keep the baby. How the hell was he supposed to get through this?

Almost as if in answer to a prayer, he heard the familiar rustle of wings, then, "Hello, Dean."

"Cas." He couldn't help but smile up at his angel.

"I have missed you."

"You have?"

"Very much."

"Yeah, me, too."

"We'd expect at least three children, then," Becky countered whatever Sam had said.

Sam shook his head. "No more than two unless they really want to have more."

Dean sighed. "G-. This is so fucking nuts."

Cas' hand settled lightly on Dean's shoulder. "I agree. My Parent can be … demanding."

"You think? And Dude, there's two of Them."

Cas inclined his head with that 'humor my human' way he had. "What I think is that ... They have interfered enough in matters we alone should decide."

"Team Free Will rides again?"

"I believe it would be a more fitting sequel than the one my Parents intend."

"Kind of would have to be. Get me out of here?"

Cas drew him to his feet, then touched his forehead. Marble transformed to sand, and Dean turned toward the sound of a waves flowing over sand. Cas had brought them to some deserted cove with a white sand beach lined with palm trees.

Cas smiled at his questioning look. "I agree with, Sam. You do deserve walks on the beach." He held out his hand. "And I believe it is customary to hold hands during such strolls."

Dean chuckled and laced his fingers through Cas'. They walked in silence for a few moments while Dean drank in the solitude and worked up his courage. Finally, he said, "We've been in love for a long time."

"Yes," Cas agreed and something inside Dean relaxed. He'd been pretty sure, but nothing beat confirmation he wasn't in this all alone. "While it took me some time to understand, I believe I fell in love with you the moment I saw your soul in Hell. Never have I seen such beauty."

He felt the warmth of a blush spread across his face. "I don't remember you pulling me out," he admitted, "but you made one heck of an impression when you walked into that barn." Like Cas, it had taken some time to sort out his feelings, but he knew they'd pretty much always been there. "So we love each other."

"Yes."

"What I don't know is if you want me."

In answer, Cas drew him close, then pressed his lips to Dean's.

Dean sighed against the soft touch, his own lips parting. Their tongues danced together and their arms tightened, pulling each other even closer. Dean smiled against Cas lips as he felt the angel harden against Dean's thigh, then Cas drew back.

"I ache for you," the deep, rough voice assured him, "but we must talk before this goes any further."

He nodded. Their hands linked once more, they continued their walk. After a few more quiet moments, Cas said, "I understand your desire to avoid Heaven. And though there have been many changes since my Parents' return, there is no reason for you to experience them for many years to come."

So Death wasn't knocking down his door anytime soon. Good to know. But, "Cas, I don't want … I need you."

"Then I will remain here with you until your time on Earth is done, then we will return to Heaven together."

"That Checky's plan?"

A smile twitched across Cas' face at the irreverent nickname. "I do not know. Mother tends to weave plots within plots."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered, then his eyes widened in alarm. "No, really don't."

Soft laughter and a squeeze of his hand reassured Dean they would not be discussing Becky's fantasies anytime soon. "In any case, this conversation may well be what She wished all along."

Probably. The Mad Hatter Duo couldn't know Dean's deepest thoughts and not know he was pretty much allergic to Heaven right now. That didn't mean They couldn't be Bitches about Cas staying with him. "Will you be … all right if you don't go back?"

"I will remain an angel, but my powers will diminish to more manageable levels while we live here. They will be restored when we leave."

Dean swallowed. "So you'll stay like this while I get old."

Cas' hand squeezed his again. "It is not within me to watch you age and die, my love. But when your allotted time is up, we must depart."

"Allotted time, huh? Any hints?"

Cas leaned over and brushed his lips against Dean's ear. "No."

"Bitch," He snarked, but it didn't really bother him. Something else did. "I … know I can't risk it while I'm … pregnant, but I can't give up hunting for good, Cas."

"You would not be the man I love if you could."

"But I want a house. Maybe near Bobby's place? Will you have the juice to commute us to hunts and back?"

"There is a portal I can prepare that will allow such freedom of movement, but it will interfere with my ability to remove us from dangerous situations."

So no free rides, but Dean had learned a long time about life and all the annoying trade-offs it required. "Not like I've ever had a 'getaway' pass before and I'm still here. So house, portal, check?"

Cas nodded his agreement.

"And our kids? They going to be angels, human or something in-between?"

"They will be … more resilient than a normal human as they grow."

Good to know. "And then?"

"I believe Sam has negotiated the right for them to choose for themselves."

"Go Sammy. He got us anything else?"

"He is currently working out how often my Parents may visit us."

The terrible reality hit home. "Oh, fuck, Chuck and Becky are going to be my in-laws." Now there was the world's worst sitcom in the making.

Cas laughed. "I imagine our Sunday dinners will be most interesting."

"Oh, kill me now."

The angel's eyes twinkled with mirth. "I believe that is one request I will always deny you."

"Thanks, Cas, you’re a prince among angels," Dean muttered, then looked at him puzzled when he stopped walking.

"We seem to have skipped one very important question."

"Yeah?"

"Dean, do you wish to bear our children?"

And there was the million dollar question. The one he'd have answered with a heart-felt 'hell, no!' only a short time ago, but he loved Cas and the idea of their children made something flutter inside of him. "Gotta be honest, Cas, it terrifies the crap out of me, but …" he ran his free hand through his hair, "I keep thinking of a little girl with your eyes and my smile, and I want to meet her so fucking much."

"If I could, I would remove this burden from you and take it upon myself, but Mother is quite adamant about which role each of us will play. Something about a 'tomcat's' just desserts?"

Yeah, that sounded like Her. If not for the whole free will party line, Dean might suspect his preferences came from Her same desire to turn the tables on him. But the truth was even with a woman, Dean had always liked the feeling of being taken versus doing the taking. Shit. "You'll stay with me?"

"For all of eternity."

Over-the-top crap from anyone else, but with Cas, Dean recognized it as a solemn vow. "Then yes, Cas. Yes, I want our babies." No, he didn't want to have them, but he wanted them and this was the only way. This time he was the one to draw Cas in close, to deepen the kiss, but the bastard still pulled away when things started to heat up.

"We should stop," Cas said, brushing his lips against Dean's neck. "Your brother wishes us to be wed before I impregnate you."

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course Sammy did. Nothing but a big freaking girl in over-sized brother's clothing. "Yeah, well, we'll let Sammy go all nuts over place settings and flower arrangements, but," his hands tightened on the lapels of Cas' trench coat, "there is no way in Hell you're getting off this beach without making love to me."

"Sam will be displeased," Cas warned, but his coat vanished only to reappear on the sand next to them. All laid out and ready to shield tender parts from the sand.

"I'll protect you," Dean promised, drawing Cas down with him. Somewhere between the first pull and Dean's back hitting the coat's lining, their clothes vanished. "You ever done this before?"

"No, but I understand the concept," Cas answered settling between Dean's legs. "And your body is anxious to receive me."

"Smooth talker," he murmured, then sighed at the brush of lips against his right nipple. The left enjoyed a similar teasing touch, before Cas began to explore Dean's body. Every kiss, every caress felt like the brush of soft down against Dean's skin. Like love. 

When Cas entered him Dean felt bare flesh inside him for the first time. "So glad it's you," he whispered. Cas kissed him, then begin to move. Waves of pleasure flowed through Dean almost mirroring the rhythm of the gently rolling surf, and when release came, he looked into his lover's eyes and knew they were making something beautiful.

They lay together for hours. Sometimes talking, sometimes making love, but always snug in each others arms. They watched a sunset of breathtaking colors, but as the moon rose, Cas smiled and his hand came to rest on Dean's belly. "It's done, my love. Our daughter grows within you."

Panic laced fear whispered through Dean's mind, but mostly he felt … Awed. His hand joined Cas' and their fingers interlaced. He had no idea what the future held for them or the child beneath their hands, but he knew one thing – there would always be love.

end


End file.
